


Thunderbirds Are Go – ‘Bubble Therapy’

by countessofsnark



Category: Thunderbirds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 03:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countessofsnark/pseuds/countessofsnark
Summary: Maybe I spend too much time squinting at screenshots and the insane detail of the boys’ uniforms (and CGI clothing in general in TAG), but I can’t help noticing the differences in body shapes between the tall and long limbed bros - John definitely has nice looking biceps, while Scott is basically a slightly more developed version of space noodle Alan. But while Scott has pecs that are somewhat visible beneath his suit, his arms are kinda, well, noodly - unlike most of his bros? Scott always looks confident and careless but what if there was a different, hidden side to him and his Smother Hen alter go? So one thought led to another and… Here we are





	Thunderbirds Are Go – ‘Bubble Therapy’

Bubbles were fizzing all around him, popping their wonderful fragrance into the air and filling the bathroom with the scent of a springtime meadow. Scott had stretched out his long limbed body, feet splayed against the other side of the tub while his head was resting on a towel. Bath time was sacred on Tracy Island – a rare example of solitude and seclusion in a home where privacy is hard to come by. 

Whenever he had a moment to himself, Scott would either be contemplating life and past rescues, reading a book (escapism brought on by years of bedtime reading and a natural interest in literature), or jerking off (50% stress relief, 50% dealing with unwanted horniness). Tonight, as he felt his body relaxing underneath its blanket of bubbles, the former seemed to be called for. Thoughts were hopping around like bunnies on a sugar high. Scott tried to reason with his hyperactive brain, but to no avail. He didn’t understand why he had to be the one whose bath time activities would be dominated by reflections and contemplation instead of blissful meditation or other relaxing distractions.

Why couldn’t he be more like Virgil, who sipped beer while watching Discovery Channel or Netflix on the wall mounted TV he had put up himself? Or Alan, who would use bath time to catch up with the latest comics he’d bought online? And Gordon, who would be playing with rubber ducks in spite of being on the verge of leaving his teens behind? Thankfully, John was another special case. John was a self-confessed shower aficionado who hated bath tubs. It had taken a lost bet with Ridley O’Bannon to force him to try taking a bath for a change. Much to Ridley’s – and Scott’s – amusement, John grudgingly admitted he liked the experience and was considering another go. (Though the promise of a shoulder massage by the aforementioned Captain O’Bannon may or may not have something to do with that.)   
He grabbed the glass of wine that sat nearby and took a satisfying sip. His left arm itched so he instinctively scratched it, almost forgetting the reason for that annoying itch. He raised his arm out of the water and inspected the ugly red line that ran across his biceps. The scar tissue is healing rather well, but the memory of what caused it was now replaying in front of his mind’s eye. He flexed his arm and sighed. When the flashes of the jetpack accident had subsided, other thoughts came knocking on his mind’s proverbial door. Ugly ones, like a pack of persistent bullies that just wouldn’t give him a break.

Scott wouldn’t call himself vain by any stretch, but he did take pride in the fact that he had maintained a slim, lean frame all through his twenties. Now on the verge of turning 30, he doesn’t want to lose those well toned pecs and that taut butt (one of his best features, according to the few ladies who were fortunate enough to catch a gimpse of said butt). In fact, he is more often than not plagued by body issues, especially with regard to his brothers’ physiques. Virgil is by far the most muscular, buffed up brother. Then again, in his line of work, that was more of a necessity than an aesthetic nicety. And yet, Virgil seemed to be naturally beefy, intense gym sessions have only added to more prominent muscle mass. Gordon, on the other hand, had started out scrawny but extensive training in and out of the pool had transformed the smallest Tracy brother into a human torpedo. Even now, his Olympic glory a thing of the recent past, he has retained an enviable muscle-to-fat ratio. Little Alan, on the other hand, is a bit too young to have fully defined muscles just yet. Yet there is no doubt in Scott’s mind that Alan is destined to become a very striking specimen.

But as for him… people always did tell him that he and John were like twins – apart from the fact that John is a true ginger, with gorgeous green eyes, and a floppy hairdo. But even John, subject to harsh zero G conditions on Thunderbird 5, had more natural muscle mass than Scott. John’s biceps was never not visible inside his tight space suit. His legs too were quite defined – and they were longer than Scott’s – and finally, his butt stood out just a tad more favourably. Scott hates himself for picking up on these details. Hates the way he would look at his mirror image and see the flaws rather than celebrate the diversity, the uniqueness of who he is.   
His own arms are still spindly compared to John’s. His lanky legs are built for sprinting and jogging, and for all manner of airborne stunts (jumping off ledges, crawling and climbing, you name it, he could do it more gracefully than the most experienced Olympic gymnast). 

And as for another body part, well, he doesn’t care that much for comparison because he believes performance matters most. Yet he knows that Virgil and John outmeasure him in this area and he tries but fails to not let that fact get to him. His hair is still full and luscious and shiny (the latter is owned mostly to a shelf full of hair products) but he keeps finding grey strands that are a thorn in his eye – like youth abandoning him prematurely, the burden to bear for carrying the weight of International Rescue on his shoulders.

Scott yawns and rises from the lukewarm water. He reaches for a towel and dabs his body dry. The house is quiet now, midnight approaching fast underneath a starry sky. He slips beneath cool covers, shivering slightly as they touch his damp skin. Sleep is the only thing that can stop his mind from turning. In spite of his tendency to get lost in thoughts, insomnia has never been a recurring issue for him. At least there’s that.

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I spend too much time squinting at screenshots and the insane detail of the boys’ uniforms (and CGI clothing in general in TAG), but I can’t help noticing the differences in body shapes between the tall and long limbed bros - John definitely has nice looking biceps, while Scott is basically a slightly more developed version of space noodle Alan. But while Scott has pecs that are somewhat visible beneath his suit, his arms are kinda, well, noodly - unlike most of his bros? Scott always looks confident and careless but what if there was a different, hidden side to him and his Smother Hen alter go? So one thought led to another and… Here we are


End file.
